


Goodbye

by 131Shaw



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: 3x03, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/131Shaw/pseuds/131Shaw
Summary: My take on what happened behind the closed door in 3x03, smut included.





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic, hope you enjoyed!

_This is the end._

The truth of that hit her suddenly, unexpectedly, hot and sharp.

 _I may never see him again._ That realisation was painful, a punch to the gut. Was that the last memory she wanted? Cold and distant. Angry, afraid. She rose quickly, hesitated at the door, pulled it open with her breath hitched in her throat. He was still there, back pressed against the wall, eyes closed to the white plaster of the ceiling.

Her hand inched out of the gap, crawling along the wood towards his. She barely brushed the soft skin before his thick fingers curled around hers instinctively, squeezing. It wasn't enough. This couldn't be the last time, the last touch. She pulled him forward, through the gap, into the room that was now hers. The door clicked softly behind him, she leaned around him, locked it.

Her arms reached up, wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing the hair there. Thin and soft. His own arms snaked around her waist, muscles flexing, breath released in a sigh of despair.

"I'm sorry." She whispered in the crook of his neck, smelling him, drinking him in. _He smelled of cigarette smoke and aftershave._ She wanted that smell to stay there in her nostrils, forever. She wished she could save it. "I'm so sorry." She said again, wanting to say more, unable to find the right words.

He nodded against her cheek, rough stubble scratching the skin. "I know."

Her lips pressed against his neck, parting, closing, sucking. He drew in breath, hissing, like he was in pain. She hurt to. A trail of desire from just above the collarbone to behind the ear, along the jaw. His lips found hers, soft, sad. _Not tonight._

Her hand slid inside his black coat, a Commander's coat. She pushed it off of the shoulders, down the arms, making a map in her mind of every curve. She pushed herself against him, hands dragging down his chest to his pants. She felt him grow hard beneath her palm.

Her lips left his continuing on their path down his body, memorizing. He sprung out, waiting for her, she caught him in her mouth. Nick groaned, his fingers pinched the bonnet covering her hair, threw it aside. Next came the pin that kept it bound, it hit the hardwood floor with a thin clink. Blonde hair tumbled down to end on her chest. His hands tangled in it, gripping, pulling.

They were not sad. There was no room for sad, not now, not tonight. His mouth was desperate, so was hers. They didn't attack each others clothes though, like ravenous beasts. They wanted to remember this for as long as the world permitted, should they never get the chance again.

She unbuttoned his shirt with precision, kissing the skin beneath. He stepped out of his pants. She would remember how tan his skin was, the coarse dark hair that concealed his thighs and calfs. She would remember his mouth on her breasts, warm and wet. The way it felt when his fingers gripped her butt.

She would remember how it felt to have his legs entangled with hers, his hand in her hair, him inside of her. His teeth on her neck, breath shooting out in hot puffs of air, his thumb in her mouth. A futile attempt at keeping her quiet.

She would remember how it felt to explode beneath him, their bodies convulsing together, rocking against one and other. His seed filled her. At another time, in another life she would wish for that seed to take root and bloom. _Not here, this is the garden of evil._

She wished they could stay here all night. Wrapped in each others arms, far away. But the clock was ticking, it wasn't safe. She pulled him to her, tasting him, smelling him, feeling him. Wishing time would pause, just for a little while. He broke the kiss.

"I have to go." He whispered against her lips, noses touching. Panic rose in her chest.

_No. There's so much I haven't said._ _So much I may never get to say._

Her fingers tensed on his arm like a vice.

_Don't go. Five more minutes. Don't leave me. Don't die._

None of it was fair to say so instead she rose, numb. She collected his clothes, drew them up to her nose for one last smell. She helped him dress, dragging out the little time they had. Her fingers shook gently as she buttoned his shirt. His forehead rested against hers. The tie came last.

She used to do Luke's tie as so many other women did for their partners. Sending them off to work with a kiss and a smile. Not like this. She had tears in her eyes, so did he. When she was done he took her hands, laced their fingers. _This is the end._

"She got out." June whispered into the night. "She's safe." The tension flowed out of him for half a second, he leaned into her, breathed deep. His nose brushed against hers, "Good."

He had more to say than that. So did she. She wanted to explain why she stayed. He wanted an explanation. There was no time for that. They both knew it.

His jaw clenched, his hands squeezed hers. "I love you." Then he kissed her for the last time. His mouth was sad again, so was hers. A tear slid down her cheek and wet their lips.

"I love you." She breathed into him, longing for more. She wanted to tear his clothes off again, wanted to feel his bare flesh flush against her own. She wanted to go to that happy place where she was June and he was Nick. He broke away from her before that could happen, before the two of them drowned in each other. 

His lips came away first, then his head, body, hands. She wanted to grip onto them and never let go. His fingers slid out of her limp ones, numb. She didn't watch him leave, couldn't.

_If I look back I am lost._

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, her breath was shaky. He wasn't outside the door this time, waiting for her. He was creeping through the house, tip toeing across the floorboards, descending the staircase with soft thuds. She went to the window, kneeled, peered out around the curtains. He came out a moment later, a shadow, stalking stiffly away.

_Don't look back. Look back. Don't look back._

He reached the end of the driveway, paused, looked back.

_Can he see me? A shadow now. A ghost._

He turned the corner and blended into the dark, gone forever.

_Not forever. I can't think like that._

It felt like there was a fist impaled in her chest, smashed through bone to strangle her heart.

 _Can you mourn someone who isn't dead?_ June thought so. This was the end. Surely not _the end,_ though. But for now it was goodbye.


End file.
